Special Delivery
by Bazylia de Grean
Summary: Torment series, nr 2. A post office delivery causes some more Confusion. Dooku, Grievous, Ventress, and two scheming Jedi Masters.


Disclaimer: I don't own Dooku, Ventress, Grievous or Yoda, nor the SW uniserve, which belongs to the Emperor George Lucas. I only borrow some characters for a while and torment them ;)

Ilya and Keey, however, are mine.

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**Special ****Delivery**

When Grievous entered, Dooku did not even rise his gaze from the reports scattered on his desk. Whatever the general was bringing, it could wait.

"You Grace?" creaked Grievous's voice.

Dooku sighed and put the papers away.

"What is it, general? I am working," he explained with exasperation.

Grievous raised a rather big envelope he was holding in his metal claws, "Post delivery, Your Grace."

The count decided a little break would not do any charm, and for a while let himself forget the reports completely. "I had no idea the Space Guild still deals with deliveries, now we have a war going on," he eyed the parcel curiously.

"It seems they still do, Your Grace."

"What is it, anyway?", Dooku reached out and took the envelope from Grievous.

"No ideas, Your Grace. Seems like an order from a mail catalogue."

Dooku eyebrows arched in mild bewilderment. "Mail catalogue? Now I'm intrigued…" impatiently, he opened the envelope, and took out the contents.

The contents seemed to be made of some sort of finest delicate cotton, adorned with lots of lace and some pearl beads here and there.

The count's eyebrows already reached a point beside which they could not arch, so he was limited to staring only.

"For Force's sake, what is it doing here, and addressed to me?!" Dooku exclaimed finally, when his voice came back to him. "A nightgown? A feminine nightgown?"

Grievous was speechless still.

"What is going on?" asked a high pitched voice at the door, and both men turned to face Asajj Ventress. "Having fun without me?" asked Asajj, her eyes gleaming with interest and amusement, but both faded away instantly on seeing the look on Dooku's face.

"I wouldn't call it _fun_, my dear," hissed the count. "And next time you order you your night clothes, please be so kind and use _your own_ name and not mine. Is that clear?"

"Y-yes," Asajj nodded, just in case, and then added, "But I didn't order anything…" she halted when a menacing gleam flared in Dooku's eyes. "Really, Your Grace, I didn't! You know me!"

Grievous was still silent, but a glare he gave Ventress made her rethink her last sentence.

"And I didn't mean it like _that_, you foul rusty can, and you know it!" she spun on Grievous, furious. Then she turned back towards the count and continued, in a calmer tone, "Really, Your Grace, you have to believe me. I had nothing to do with _this_."

Dooku eyed her carefully for a long moment, then nodded. "You're telling the truth." He glanced at Grievous. "Shall I assume this was ordered by our general?"

Grievous blinked, shocked. "Your Grace, I would never… You know me…"

Asajj cackled.

"And I didn't mean it like _that_!" cried Grievous. "Your Grace, really…"

Dooku sighed loudly and shook his head in disapproval. "Just get it settled between the two of you," he commanded in a tired voice, dropping the wretched nightgown onto the floor. "I've had enough for today," and with those words he left.

Asajj looked at Grievous hostilely.

"Look what have you done, idiot," she growled in anger.

"Me? _Me?_" Grievous's joints cracked as he turned his head towards Ventress. "If you didn't order some stupid rag…"

"I don't wear such nightgowns, and you know it!" Asajj put her hand on a hilt of one of her 'sabers.

"Steady now, girl," warned the general quietly. After all, he had four lightsabers when she had only two, such fight would not even be fun. "How should I know it? I thought the count may, but you denied it most definitely…"

Asajj groaned.

"To hell with you," she said casually, and walked out of the room, leaving Grievous alone.

---

Light years away, in one of the rooms of the Jedi Temple on Coruscant, a certain little green Jedi Master was meditating. He opened his eyes at the sound of silent footsteps at the door.

"Master Bassel, Master Spani, reprimand you, I do," said Yoda with a mock sternness to both young women. "Such methods in a war use, should you not."

Jedi Master Keey Spani waved her hand dismissively.

"Master Yoda, they do use confusion and various tricks, why we should not use them too?"

A corner of Yoda's mouth raised in a half-smile. "Because a Jedi Knight you are, young one," explained the old Master patiently.

"But, Master, does being a Jedi mean we can't have fun?" demanded Keey. "Come on, Master, admit you enjoyed this, too…"

Yoda's face remained impassive, with an exception of the disobedient corner of his lips, which was still curled up.

"But, Master Yoda," spoke Ilya Bassel, with an innocent smile. "Just imagine the look on his face when he opened it…"

Yoda burst into merry laughter. "Imagine, I do not have to, young one," said the old Master, between laughs. "Seen it, I have."

Both women eyed Yoda with a sudden interest.

"Master, please, tell us!"

"Tell you, I will not, naughty Jedi. Meditation train yourself for such uses, you should."

Young Jedi Masters exchanged glances.

"You heard Master Yoda, Il', we do have no choice. What shall we send him next time?" Keey was smiling widely, eyes sparkling.

"I think…" answered Ilya, her face thoughtful, "I do have an idea…"

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_Author's note:_

It's slowly growing into a series, and I begin to fear my own writing XD By it's all my friend Kaja's fault, really. You know me ;)

So, if there'd be another fanfic somehow connected with any piece on underwear, this'd be officially becoming The Underwear Series. Please, bear with me - it just seems I love tormenting Dooku too much to put this away ;) And since Kaja loves it, too, we are both on a straight way to the DARK SIDE XD


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